Unforgiving
by A Wordsmith
Summary: Harry is fed up with the Wizarding World. He doesn't see any other way out of it.


"Er- Hermione?" Harry asked, shuffling from foot to foot. The shelves of the library seemed much taller than him at the moment, and he despised his short height.

"Talon-clipping by charms… treating scale-rot… this is no good." The witch was bent over another dragon book, bushy hair sticking up. It was a light brown but with the frizz looked almost darker.

Her head moved up. "What, Harry? There's _got_ to be something in this book…" Her tone was rather desperate, and Harry noticed that she was reading several things she wasn't saying out loud. Probably more terrifying things about dragons. She nearly leaned back into the book, her chocolate eyes deeply concentrated. And then Harry was shut out again as she tried to find a weakness in the book _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much_.

Harry grinned at her, before reaching forward and tapping her shoulder. It took several times but then she looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "What? We need to find something- there's nothing in the air above my head, Harry."

A slight blush spread over his cheeks, and Harry plopped down in the chair opposite her. Hermione's eyes followed him, bright and calculating. Brightest witch of her generation indeed, Harry mused.

Harry held up the book he was carrying. "Um, this book said something about how dragons are sensitive to loud noises." No, it didn't. Harry was holding it upside down, for Merlin's sake.

But Hermione's eyes snapped to it, gears clicking and shifting behind her eyes. Her gaze brightened. "That would make sense." She gestured to her own book. "It says here their eyes are rather weak, so it makes sense their ears would be too!"

Harry blinked. That was news to him; then again, he vaguely remembered her saying something like that a few minutes ago. He had had a lot on his mind.

"So - erm. Do you think you could teach me the Sonorus charm?" He asked hesitatingly.

Hermione cocked her head to one side. "The Amplifying charm?" Her eyes widened.

Harry continued on. "Well, you know how in the Quidditch World Cup, Bagman put his wand on his throat-" Harry gestured, placing the holly tip of his wand on his windpipe, "and then his voice got really loud? Do you think that you could teach me that?"

Hermione exclaimed happily "Oh! You could scream really loudly to distract the dragon! That would work perfectly!" She shot Harry an appreciative look. "Good job, Harry! This is going to really help you in that First Task." She busied herself with the stacks of books over their table.

She shot them a rather disgusted look. "And all that time I was looking up how a dragon was supposed to eat 'three cups of meat before bed to sleep peacefully', a regular spell would save you!" She grinned at Harry, her missing buckteeth still prominent on her face.

Harry smiled back, though he was sure he didn't look quite as excited. How would any wizard of a mere 14 years old feel about having to go and battle a three-tonne creature armed with fire and scales? He was marching to his death.

Hermione scooped up all of the books, plucking the one out of Harry's arms. She stood up from her chair, back cracking slightly. She yawned, the only sign of her exhaustion in trying to keep Harry alive.

She gestured for Harry to follow her. The boy did, smiling. He offered his arms out to her in the strategy they had perfected. Hermione smiled at him and deposited the books in his arms, flat for easy access.

The two of them wandered down the aisles, Hermione grabbing a book from Harry's arms whenever she found its spot. Harry couldn't even remember what the name of his last book was, never less where it had gone. But this was the reason that Hermione was Madam Pince's favourite, not him. Whenever she released a book, magic would float it up until it slid back into where it had been. Harry liked watching them until Hermione called him forward; magic would always be amazing for Harry.

The last book was slipped into its little sleeve between two thick green novels all about animal sicknesses, and then Hermione was grabbing Harry by the arm and pulling him forward. She dragged him through an aisle, before hurriedly groaning and yanking Harry behind a shelf.

He followed her, confused, before a slouched figure walked into the room. He had his black shock of hair and strange gait. It was Viktor Krum.

Hermione hissed out to Harry in between clenched teeth, saying "Oh, let's hurry and find the spell, his fanclub is going to be here any second, twittering around him." She yanked him from there bad hiding spot and instantly Viktor shot a head in their direction, frowning when he saw Harry. He turned back and started to walk through the shelves, plucking a book or two from seemingly random spots.

Hermione frogmarched Harry up to the counter where Madam Pince sat, watching them through bright gray eyes. She eyed up Harry before her face softened slightly when it landed on Hermione.

"Yes?" She asked, wand twitching in her fingers. "Do you need anything, Miss Granger?"

"Oh yes, please," Hermione said, ever-so-polite to the librarian. "Do you know where we can find a book about the Sonorus charm?"

"Hmm." Madam Pince tapped her fingers along her counter. Her eyes flicked over the shelves, a frown worming its way on her face. But it only etched itself in deeper when a loud explosion of giggles met Harry's ears. He swiveled, seeing a virtual wave of girls tiptoe into the library. Several were sporting red and one even had a Bulgarian scarf tied around her waist. They giggled, shooting furtive looks around the library.

"Madam Pince?" Hermione asked after a few seconds.

"Ah yes." The librarian shook her head, standing up. She walked up from around the desk, heading toward a shelf in the far back. Hermione and Harry dutifully followed her, Harry tucking his wand back into his pocket.

She stopped, reaching up. She grabbed onto a thin book with a bright blue cover, sliding it out of its spot. She handed it to Hermione. "Chapter five, I believe." She said, turning around to head back to her counter.

"Madam Pince!" Hermione said, speeding forward to catch up with her, book held tightly in her hand. "Can we check this out?"

The woman looked down at her, before nodding. "Of course, Miss Granger. Right this way." She led them to her counter, one hand extending. Hermione placed the book in her grip, and Madam Pince drew it back and held her wand over the spine of the book. The tip of her black wand glowed a bright yellow, and the book cover matched it. After a few seconds, she took her wand away.

"You have two weeks, Miss Granger." She said, handing the book back over to her.

"Thank you!" Hermione said, gripping Harry's arm. "Come on, we have to go practice!"

"Coming, Hermione," Harry said easily, letting her drag him out of the library. She smiled at him, still gripping the book.

They made their way through twisting stone hallways, ignoring chatty portraits that called out to them. Hermione kept one tight grip on Harry's arm and the other on the book, her eyes flicking over the doors that popped up in the corridor. Finally, one right next to a flickering torch caught her eye, and she turned and sped right towards it. Skipping lightly over the thick layer of dust in front of it, she pushed the door open and marched inside.

It was an abandoned classroom. There were desks stacked up on one wall, the same thick dust coating them as it was over the floor. A large blackboard was against one wall and a spiral pattern was engraved into the floor.

"Oh, this must have been a Runes classroom!" Hermione exclaimed, examining the marks on the floor. She held out her wand, barking "Lumos!" A shimmering ball of light exploded from the tip, sending tiny daggers into Harry's eyes. He blinked several times, but by the time he was adjusted Hermione was already sitting cross-legged on a dust-free floor. The book was open on her lap and she was flipping to chapter five.

He smiled at her and dropped down, looking over her shoulder. The pages were flipping past too quickly for him to read, but soon Hermione stopped. He read it as quickly as he could but Harry only managed a few paragraphs before Hermione sighed and stood up.

"Barely a sentence more!" She groaned. "Just 'place your wand against your throat and say the word Sonorus'. No special movements at all! We could have done this without the book in the first place."

"But then you wouldn't be the Hermione I know," Harry chided, grinning. Hermione paused, smiled back, and then laughed. They both knew it was true.

She stretched, hands above her head. Harry stood up, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Hermione picked hers up from where it was still glowing on the ground. She looked around the room before her eyes lit up. She strode over to one side of the room, flicking her wand. The light canceled out but then she was yanking curtains away from two large windows in the wall. Brilliant evening sun streamed into the room, sparks flashing in front of Harry's eyes.

"There. Much better," she declared, going back to the book on the floor. She knelt, scooping it up before her eyes flicked over the page again.

"So it's pretty easy," she said. "Just put your wand on your neck and say Sonorus."

Harry placed the holly tip against his throat, Adam's apple bobbing. He sucked in a deep breath before saying as loudly as he dared "Sonorus!"

He choked.

His neck felt like there were cold threads slipping up and down it, twining around his vocal chords. The sensation made his ears pop violently, like thunder cracking.

"Harry! Are you okay!" It was Hermione, rushing toward him. She put a hand on his forehead, ignoring his motions to bat her away. "Did it go wrong? Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing? Oh, the book didn't say anything about this. Of course, it didn't." She whipped out her wand.

"No, Hermione, I'm fine!" Harry said. And Hermione winced, throwing hands up in front of her ears. She turned away from him, darting back toward the book.

Harry heard his own voice, but it was like a microphone was next to him. It was louder but he didn't _feel_ anything wrong with him, other than his vocal chords buzzing a little harder than normal.

It had worked!

"Quietus," Hermione said, wand pointing as his throat. The cold threads laced through Harry's neck disappeared, popping out of existence. He rubbed his throat, fingers warm.

"Did it work?" Harry asked, his voice back to normal.

Hermione winced slightly. "Oh, definitely. But next time, let me cover my ears or something; that was loud!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "It's called the Amplifying charm, Hermione."

She blushed. "Oh, I know that, silly. I didn't expect it to be so _loud_ , though." She leveled a look at him, determination shining in her gaze. "Again."

Harry grinned and put his wand against his throat. "Again."

* * *

"You're to go in there with the other champions," said Professor McGonagall in a rather shaky voice, "and wait for your turn, Mr. Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you what you have to do for the First Task."

"Thanks," Harry said, staring up at her. She was a nice professor, even if she didn't always help him out. "Thanks," he said again, and this time he meant it.

She gave him one of the rather rare smiles she only reserved for Hermione. "Good luck, Mr. Potter." She turned with a flair of her crimson robes and then she was gone, walking up to the teacher's stage.

Harry sucked in a deep breath. He had a plan.

He pushed open the flap to the tent, the bright orange and purple making his eyes hurt to look at them. The air inside the tent was colder, as if to try and calm the champion's nerves. Harry idly wondered whether it was working.

Fleur Delacour was sitting on one of the four wooden stools, gaze directly towards the other exit of the tent. Her face wasn't composed, lips twitching and eyes wide. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, her wand lying across her lap.

Viktor Krum looked nearly the same, slouched posture tucked into one corner of the tent. His eyebrows were down and his mouth was fixed in a permanent scowl, but his dark eyes flicked from person to person.

Cedric Diggory gave Harry a nervous smile that fell a little flat, as though his lips had forgotten how to do it properly. His brown hair was wild and stuck up, not like the smoothed down and neat appearance he normally had. He had a tight look on his jaw and his wand was tossed in between hand to hand every few seconds.

"Harry! Our fourth champion! Glad to see you!" And there was Bagman, looking like nothing concerned him in the slightest. His face was overly happy and fixated directly on Harry. "Come in, come in, make yourself at home! We are nearly ready to begin!" He winked at Harry. "Couldn't start without you!"

"No," Harry said back, a slight smile playing on his lips.

The man's Wasp robes - a bright yellow with a thick band of black around his waist - were too worn and hugged too tight in places Harry kept his gaze from. Apparently, the pay Bagman got now was plenty enough to fulfill his rather large diet.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" His voice was overly bright, like a torch full of too strong batteries. Although, Harry doubted the pureblood man knew what that was.

"When the audience has finished assembling, I am going to offer each of you something from this bag." He moved his forward, which was clutching a small bag made of a shimmering purple silk. The bottom of it bulged and shook. "You will each get a different model of something you will have to face! There are different - er - types, you see. And your task will be to collect the golden egg from this things!" He smiled brightly at his words, arms spreading wide like he expected them to start cheering.

They didn't. Instead, each champion looked at him with narrowed brows, their lives dancing around in whatever was in the man's sack. Though Harry assumed, by looking around the room, he saw each of their faces were set in concentration, and he very much doubted they didn't all know what was in there.

There were feet all around them - thousands of stomps from happy people talking excitedly about everything and anything. They swarmed past the tent, clambering up onto the stands. There was a stream, then a trickle; until there was silence, and Bagman had offered out the purple bag.

"Ladies first." He winked and swung it in the direction of Fleur.

The girl smoothed her silvery blue robes, her wand still tight in her hand. She reached into the bag, wincing once, before she pulled her arm back out. She spread her hand out, palm out, to see what she had gotten.

It was a tiny model of a dragon. There were light green scales half the size of Harry's pinky nail, tiny wings pressed against tinier sides. A long head and a twin tail extended out on either side.

Then the thing moved, shaking its coat of scales and roaring up at the skies. Fleur almost jumped back, eyes wide. Its movements dislodged a thin collar around the dragon's neck, this one with a number _2_ scrawled on it.

"Excellent!" Bagman clapped his hands together, ignoring the disgusted look from Viktor and Cedric. "A Welsh Green - perfect for a fight!" Fleur, looking decidedly pale in the face, moved back to her seat.

"Viktor! You next." The Quidditch star stepped forward, hand reaching inside the bag. He came out with his hands firmly wrapped around the throat of a hissing dark red dragon. It let out a burst of brilliant red flame, and Harry caught sight of a number _3_ on its collar.

"Chinese Fireball. They sure do pack a punch!" Viktor seemed to enjoy Bagman's commentary even less than Fleur did, shooting him a nasty look before taking his seat.

"Cedric! Up and at 'em." Bagman shook the bag at him, eyes still wide and excited. The Hogwarts champion had his hand in and out of the bag so quickly Harry couldn't see anything beyond a flash of blue before the dragon was in a pocket in Cedric's robes. Bagman frowned at him, before offering the bag at Harry.

"Last one!" He shook the bag as if that would make Harry want it more.

Harry stepped forward, legs rather shaky. His hand dipped inside the bag before he yelped. He yanked his arm out and found a tiny, fist-sized dragon attached by its fangs to Harry's finger. He shook his hand and the dragon nearly fell before Harry caught it.

It was a dark red-black, with paler wings and a crown of spikes. It glared balefully up at Harry before it coughed, sending a tiny red flame billowing above its head. Its neck held the number _4_. So he was to be last. Harry wondered if the Potter luck had decided to take a backseat - that was rather perfect. He was rather concerned how others would do after him.

"Oh, the Hungarian Horntail - nasty brute that is." He winced in sympathy, but Harry couldn't pay attention. He stooped, letting the dragon off of his palm. It glared up at him before it half-ran, half-glided away, out of the tent. He didn't want to bring it to this fight.

"Well, there you are!" Bagman clapped his hands together, the purple silk bag tucked back in his robes. "You have each selected the dragon you will be facing, and the numbers simply refer to what order you will be going in. Now, I'll be leaving you, but when you hear a loud whistle, it's time for a champion to come out! I'll be commenting for you all. Now, Harry, could I have a quick word with you? Outside?"

Harry looked at the man with the glint of gold in his eyes and the man who had signed away their lives by handing them a bag full of dragons. He shook his head, "No thank you."

Bagman opened his mouth before his eyebrows lowered. His eyes searched Harry's face, flicking over every angle. He nodded, rather tersely, before he strode to the flap of the tent and marched out. It swung shut behind him.

But he was hardly gone a second when a tremendous whistle snapped through the tent, startling most of them. Harry was not ashamed to say he jumped, and Cedric rather looked like he could puke. Harry realized in that second that he must have drawn the number _1_.

"Well. Good luck," Harry offered. Cedric spun to face him, giving him a nervous look before turning back to the side of the tent. He let out a deep breath and walk out, the tent snapping shut behind him.

It was worse than Harry had imagined. There were screams and cries from the crowd, all as deafening as it would have been if they were right next to them. And then there was Bagman's voice, loud over any other, calling out things like "Oh, narrow miss there!" or "Almost got away with it, pity that didn't work…" But over everything was horrible, roaring bellows that could only have come from one thing - the dragon.

Harry walked unsteadily over to his stool, sitting down on it. None of them made eye contact with each other, lost in their own thoughts.

But after what seemed like 15 minutes, a deafening roar from the crowd made each of them jump. There was a short weight in which more than one dragon roars could be heard, and then there was another short blast. Fleur stood up, silvery robes falling around her, and she strode with carefully calculated steps to the entrance.

And then it was the same thing over again. Screams, boos, roars; all shadowed by Bagman's occasional comments that made Harry's hair on the back of his neck stand up. And then Viktor was gone, and only Harry was left.

He was much more aware of his body, of the tingles that had spread down his arms and legs and of the tremors that wracked his chest. He was beyond nervous.

 _I have a plan._

 _I have a plan_.

And then there was another short whistle cry, and Harry stood up to face his dragon.

The walk was short but Harry's legs were marshmallows; shivering, shaking, quivering. He pressed one hand to the tent flap and pushed it open. His holly wand - faithful companion - was already tight in his grip.

It was like an odd dream. Thousands of faces he couldn't pick out stared down at him, framed by the blacks and browns and blonds of hair. The stands stretched well above his head, well above his sight, well above the world; all filled with people. Right across from his was a stand where several people sat, and he could make out the blinding yellow of Bagman's Wasp robes.

And then there was the Hungarian Horntail.

A massive beast with the same dark red scales and pale wings. It was crouched over a depression in the field, where Harry could see a glint of pale yellow eggs. Then there was a flash of bright gold, the egg he was supposed to collect. But the dragon looked well able to defend itself; the crown of spikes were long and glistening, fangs bared. Its spiky tail was rattling over the ground, leaving meter-long marks over the soil. It hissed at him, black eyes furious.

The crowd hushed as he walked forward, legs still shaking. He saw the Horntail twitch slightly forward. He had barely a second to dive for the nearest rock before a blast of fire three meters wide torched the ground where he had stood.

"Oh, that was a close one!" Bagman bellowed as the crowd cried out. "Can't wait to see what our youngest champion tries!"

Crouched behind a boulder, legs quivering, the smell of roasted rock filling his nose, Harry Potter did not feel like a savior.

 _I have a plan._

 _I have a plan_.

He raised his wand.

He pressed it to the hollow of his throat, the holly tip digging into his skin. The crowd was silent, watching, waiting.

"Sonorus!" He cried out as loud as he could.

The feeling hit him the same, but Harry tried to force it off. But the cold threads were still cold and the chill it left was still there. But Harry could deal with it. He could fight.

Harry coughed loudly.

The sound echoing around the crowd, who had recognized what Harry was doing. They were whispering to each other, the sound as loud as if they were screaming. The sound was magnified, louder than any human had done before without the spell.

Up in the stands, Hermione gasped. She had been carefully watching Harry, had seen him put his wand against his throat. Had known exactly what they had planned on. But it all seemed to be going wrong.

The Hungarian Horntail didn't seem to be distracted by the loud sound. It just hissed, a thicker trail of smoke slipping out from its nostrils. It's snake-like head inched closer to the rock Harry was behind, black eyes searching. Flames flickered up between its teeth.

"Watch out Harry!" She cried, but she knew she was too far away.

Harry listened as the crowd talked faster and faster, then fell silent as he stood. He was short enough and the rock tall enough that he was still hidden from the dragon's view. He began to speak.

"I am 14 years old!" Harry bellowed, his voice hitting the crowd like a physical wall. He could see Dumbledore, the man wearing electric purple robes, whisper to the people surrounding him. He bet the man hadn't seen this coming.

"I am a Fourth Year at Hogwarts." They knew that, and now the crowd was whispering again, hissing like a bunch of snakes. Harry gave a soft smile at the irony.

"When I was barely a year old, a madman snuck into my house and gave me my scar. Killed my parents first."

"Because of this, I am called the Boy-Who-Lived. I am treated a wizarding savior, the go-to man for everyone's problems."

"But do you-" He roared at the crowd, spreading his hands wide, "expect me to survive a dragon? I am only fourteen years old. I am not Merlin." He gave them a sad smile. "I am an orphan, not a savior. Get someone better to do the job."

Bagman was quiet, the crowd was quiet. There was hardly a sound except for the Horntail's hissing.

"Because I would rather die than have everyone expect me to save them."

Harry leaped out from behind the rock, wand falling from his hand. It clattered onto the stone at Harry's feet. The Horntail's gaze snapped to him, smoke trickling out from its mouth.

And then a searing blast of dragonflame hit Harry full on.

There was a muffled pause as the fire roared over the arena.

But when the dragon finally moved back, all that was left of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was a smoking corpse lying on the ground.

* * *

 **Don't kill me…**

 **So this was an idea I had. That a Harry is so fed up with being the Wizarding World's scapegoat that he decides to end himself. But since he's Harry bloody Potter, he goes out with a bang.**

 **If I get enough people telling me to, I will continue this story with the aftermath.**

 **Please read and review!**

 **Frost OUT!**


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